


Cry For A Shadow

by Anon6285_omo (Anonymous6285)



Series: Beatles Omorashi [14]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Haunted Houses, Hurt/Comfort, Omorashi, Telling Stories, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anon6285_omo
Summary: Paul tells Julian about the time John's full bladder met a haunted house.
Series: Beatles Omorashi [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612729
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Cry For A Shadow

John Lennon did not like haunted houses. It was simple as that. Or that’s what everyone had assumed. Ever since 1965, John Lennon refused to set foot inside any of them, no matter who was with him. Nobody ever questioned it, nobody ever contradicted it, and nobody ever asked why that was. 

Until Julian.

It was 1967, and Paul and John were sitting in John’s living room, Julian watching as they talked to each other. It grew quiet, and Julian plopped down on the ground, sighing.

“What’s the matter, love?” Paul said, sitting himself down onto the ground and pulling Julian into his lap.

“Daddy won’t let me go in the haunted house.”

Paul’s eyebrows raised. “A haunted house? What do you want to go into a haunted house for?”

“It’s almost halloween, and I thought that dad would come with me. My friends are going, and I don’t want to be a loser.”

Paul chuckled. “Well, Jules, your father doesn’t really like haunted houses. He gets pretty scared by them.” He saw John roll his eyes.

“Why? Are they really that scary?” Julian was starting to get a bit scared.

“No, they’re not scary. Not too scary, anyway.” Paul made eye contact with John, smiling.

“Then why don’t you like them, Daddy?” Julian looked up at John, lip protruding out as he crossed his arms.

“That’s a long story, Julian. We’ll save it for some other time.”

“No! I wanna hear it!”

“I think we’ve got plenty of time, right? I’ll tell you.”

Julian smiled. “Really?” He turned around in Paul’s lap and made himself comfortable.

“Yeah. Course!”

John sighed and got himself onto the ground, too just as Paul started his story.

~

They were having a wonderful tour, booked every night, played their hearts out every time. John was having the time of his life. Until one night when Paul mentioned going to a haunted house and embracing the local culture of Halloween. They didn’t have many haunted houses back in England, so George and Ringo both agreed it would be fun. But John really didn’t want to at all.

“It sounds incredibly boring,” he protested, but in reality, he was scared. He always refused to watch scary movies with them, never told scary stories, didn’t do anything that would result in him being scared.

“Oh, please, you’re just scared. We know you’re afraid of everything.”

“Well, no, Paul, it’s just that it sounds like a waste of time.”

“If it is, at least we’ll know not to do it again.” John rolled his eyes, very much dreading the experience about to come.

They did wind up finding a haunted house to go to. And John was not happy at all. He was terrified. In all of the commotion, he completely forgot to use the toilet before they went into the house. So after about an hour had gone by inside, he started to worry. How long were these supposed to be anyway?

He had tapped Paul on the shoulder to tell him about his growing problem, and of course, Paul had said, “stop, John. We’re having a good time. I don’t want your ‘being scared-ness’ to ruin it.”

And when he told Ringo, he got, “stop whining. Nobody wants to hear your excuses.” Plain and simple.

George wasn’t quite as harsh, but wasn’t much help, either. “You’ll be fine. We’re almost halfway through, I think.” He shrugged, and John groaned. He kept his eyes on the floor the entire way until they got to an elevator.

He looked up at the “blood”-coated walls as they started moving up. He started to feel his bladder get so heavy, he wanted to cry. Hoping he’d get the best luck out of George, he tapped his shoulder again.

“Geo, I really can’t hold it much longer. How long till the end?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. If you really can’t wait, though, I’ll try to find a place to get out of here.”

John nodded. “Thank you so much, George.”

For the next ten minutes, they both searched for some sort of exit but had no luck. John grunted. He’d stopped looking, accepting the awful fate that if this lasted too much longer, he would just pee himself.

Another forty minutes went by just as dreadfully slow as the others, and it seemed to come out of nowhere. A hand started to beat on a window next to him, and John jumped away. When the beating stopped, he looked back up to see a shadow on the window, waiting to scare the next person to walk by.

But just seconds later, he noticed something hot in his pants. He looked down to see piss as it puddled on the floor and seemed to be quite audible as both George and Ringo turned to look at him.

“Oh, God, John…”

Paul then turned around, and John covered his face.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Can we just leave? Please?”

Paul wrapped an arm around him. “Yeah. Let’s find an exit.”

They’d all kept an eye out for a place to get out early, but they ended up going through the entire house. At the end, John tried to walk away from them, but Paul stopped him.

“Hey, Johnny, what happened?” John avoided the question, continuing to the car. “John, please answer me. You’re gonna be stuck in a car with all of us, so you might as well talk now.”

“Paul, he doesn’t have to explain it to you,” Ringo said, his voice stern.

“Were you scared?” Paul had completely disregarded Ringo.

“No, I wasn’t scared. I just had to go. Leave me alone.”

“You don’t just pee yourself because you have to go.”

George pushed Paul. “Paul, stop. He had to go, and he tried to hold it.”

“I told you I had to go, and you said to stop whining.”

“Oh.” John ignored his blank expression and went to the car.

Paul hadn’t said another thing to John the rest of the evening. George drove them all home, and John got himself cleaned up, vowing to never speak of this day ever again.

~

“And that’s the dear old story of why your father doesn’t like haunted houses.”

John rolled his eyes at Julian’s wide eyed expression. “You said you’d never tell anybody about that, Paul.”

“He’s your kid, John.”

“It really happened, Daddy? You really weed yourself?”

John sighed. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

“Mommy’s gonna laugh!” Julian got up off of Paul’s lap and ran off into the next room.

“Look what you’ve done, Paul.” Then Cynthia hurried into the room.

“John? Are you alright? Julian said you…” She stopped talking when she saw that John had, in fact, not wet himself.

John’s face burned in embarrassment. “Paul was t-telling him a story. Nothing happened.”

“Oh, good.” She smiled and picked Julian up off the ground. “I’ll leave you two then.”

As she left, Paul looked at John with the biggest grin that would fit on his face.

“Oh, shut up.”


End file.
